


Glittering Scales

by SaschaR



Series: Glowing Eyes Universe [3]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, It was kinda rushed, Kissings, M/M, Panic Attacks, Self Harm Thoughts, Sir Penty ain't superly over the top, Soft Sir Pentious, Transgender Alastor, Transgender Sir Pentious, Yandere, drunk husk, nothing graphic tho, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:08:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26496913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaschaR/pseuds/SaschaR
Summary: What happens when Husk kicks Alastor out of the house?
Relationships: Alastor & Sir Pentious (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor/Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor/Sir Pentious (Hazbin Hotel)
Series: Glowing Eyes Universe [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677622
Comments: 19
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this took so long!

_ "LEAVE GODDAMNIT! LEAVE BEFORE I THROW YOU OUT MYSELF!" _

Those were the words shouted, no,  _ snarled _ at Alastor before Husk had kicked him out of the house, red-eyed and frothing. Alastor frankly had no idea what he had done wrong -and it  _ had _ to be him of course, after all, it was never poor Husker's fault!- but he had learned fairly quickly from past experience that if his dear Husker kicked him out, he better stay out and away,  _ far _ away, from any of his own or Husker's territories until Husk came and found him. And Husk  _ always _ found him. Ironically enough, Husker always seemed to find him when he was starting to relax and enjoy himself, starting to learn to live without him. Then he would wake up with Husk standing over him, eyes glowing softly with a paw extended in a silent question, asking him-no,  _ daring _ him to take it. 

And Alastor was never one to back down from a dare. 

But he digresses, musing about the future is no way to live in the present and he must focus on the now! It's the only way to survive, as he had to find a place to hide out and let his wounds heal, preferably without prying eyes to watch how the great Radio Demon could break down as easily as any other lowly sinner. 

Ah, an abandoned factory, perfect for his needs. All he needs to do now is bash his head against a wall repeatedly until he died, allowing him to regenerate without needing to sleep. And he could cope with losing the one person who ever cared for or about him in peace, knowing that he won't be in the shadows of the Beyond, watching and calculating his every move. 

He stepped in the warehouse, nose wrinkling slightly at the realization of how  _ filthy _ the damn thing was, stepping over a rusty piece of metal. Well, at least no demon shall see him here in this pigsty. He looked around and found a very ugly looking piece of wood, standing upright against a wall with a jagged, rusty nail protruding from it. Oh and just his luck, it was the perfect height for him to mash his forehead against! 

Alastor started humming a jaunty tune, microphone swinging back and forth like a metronome to the fast pace as he walked briskly over to his latest torture device, smile wide and relaxed, not conveying at all what he was about to do. 

"Hey..." 

Alastor stopped his twirling and looked down at his cane, eyes narrowing slightly. That damned thing had gotten him into more trouble with his beau than he could count, and now it was  _ daring _ to interrupt him, pull him out of the headspace he needed to be in to do such a task!? "What." He sneered out, eyes piercing into the cane's singular one. "Alastor I don't... you  _ know _ this isn't right, what  _ he _ is doing to you isn't right!" The thing protested, eye swiveling around in distress. Alastor simply rolled his eyes, scoffing at the dramatic thing in his hands. "Oh please, I will be just fine. I  _ am _ just fine. I think it'd be wise if you learned how to hold your tongue my  _ dear _ ," he spat out, whisking away the mic into a little pocket dimension, allowing Alastor to bask in the silence of the warehouse. He sighed and took a deep breath, taking one big step over to the wooden slab and closing his eyes, counting down from ten. 

_ Dix _

His heart was racing, wasn't it? 

_ Neuf _

Why was it racing, he's done this before, around a dozen times. 

_ Huit _

What did he do to make Husker angry this time? 

_ Sept _

...What was that noise? 

_ Six _

He's being dramatic like usual, there was no noise. 

_ Cinq _

Husker always says he is much too dramatic for his own good. 

_ Quatre _

Always calling him a 'Drama King' oh how entertaining! 

_ Trois _

Did something drop? 

_ Duex _

Stop being paranoid, no demon would be caught dead in here. 

_ Un _

Here we go, onto the show! 

As Alastor's head sailed forward, catching onto the rusty nail, plunging it into his brain, his ears twitched as he heard a slithering hiss come from behind him. "Alassstor my old-What in the bloody hell!?" Alastor's mind flashed in panic, a squawk sound effect emitting from his throat as the blood pooled down his face and onto the floor, knees buckling as the pain became too much, giggles and tears escaping from him. The last thing he heard before succumbing to the inky blackness that was slowly enveloping him was the rustling of fabric and a very panicked hissing voice, whispering, "No, oh no, oh fucking hell on a ssshitting ssstick  _ no _ -" and the feel of smooth claws on his cheeks, pulling him away.

~~~

Alastor... didn't enter the inky nothingness of the Beyond. He knew what it felt like, he knew what it sounded like, hell he even knew what the damn thing  _ tasted _ like. And this was  _ not _ the Beyond, not the place sinner's went to when their body took too much damage and decided that shriveling up pathetically and turning to ash was the best way to go about things, forcibly ejecting the soul from the vessel and pushing it up and down and all around into a dimension that not even the unholiest of magic could reach (although Alastor  _ had _ heard some rumors about witches that were blessed by God Themself that were able to reach into that dimension and purify souls. Lucky bastards). This... was either one of two things. One, that rusty nail turned out to be a holy nail that his poor, twisted, rotten soul should have never touched and now he is completely and utterly erased, or two, someone had found him and cared for his utterly useless body. 

He didn't know which option was more believable, nor did he know which one he feared the most. He tried to move, tried to do something,  _ anything _ to combat this darkness, this nothingness that enveloped him, that went inside of him, that now  _ made _ him. He groaned, resigning to his new fate that must surely be erasure. He closed his non-existent eyes, letting sleep fall over him as he washed away into the sea that must surely be the void.

~~~

"-od.  _ Now _ ." 

What? 

Alastor scrunched his eyebrows slightly, eyes still closed as he felt his ear twitch, confusion washing over him in waves. The nothingness, the void that was sure to happen to the poor, dumb sinners that got themselves impaled on an angelic weapon did not have  _ voices _ ... did it? Well, that would be the highest, purest form of torture, having voices and figures, muffled, just out of reach, right? No, no it would have surely been the boredom of nothingness for all of eternity, knowing that there was no hope for you to ever,  _ ever _ come back. At least in Hell, there was the slightest hope of getting to Heaven. 

Well, not for someone like him, oh no he had no desire to enter Heaven, not in the slightest. After all, it would mean leaving his Husker be...hind. 

Husk. 

Husk didn't know that he was in the void oh no Husk thought he had... left him permanently. Oh no, oh no he  _ must _ do something,  _ anything _ to return to-

"Alassstor? Alassstor calm down!" 

The void did  _ not _ have hissing, worried voices that sounded exactly like Sir Pentious, that Alastor was  _ more _ than certain of. He really should... open his eyes, shouldn't he? 

"Open your eyesss," the annoying voice commanded, well it was more of a soft hiss but that didn't matter, what mattered was that Sir-fucking-Pentious, an  _ annoying _ snake had  _ found _ his useless body in a dirty warehouse-what was he even doing in a warehouse!? Sir Pentious was a prissy, pompous, little son of a- "Open your goddamn eyesss Alassstor, I'm getting impatient." Well, now he's not going to open his eyes! Not with  _ that _ tone of voice. He heard a sigh coming from the snake before weight was put on the bed (what a comfortable bed), next to his chest. 

"Alassstor... pleassse open your eyesss..." That... was unexpected, to say the least. The Sir Pentious that he knew was loud and arrogant, making big, sweeping gestures that screamed about his inability to focus or enjoy the more delicate things of life. He was dramatic and overexaggerated in a way that Alastor did not enjoy whether it was from a show or real life. 

This was not the Sir Pentious Alastor knew. He spoke softly, with great concern and he seemed more... solid. More  _ real _ . The Showboat Sir Pentious always seemed so delicate, like the faintest touch and he would blow away. Alastor sighed softly, opening his eyes slowly, looking up at the soft face of... this wasn't Showboat Sir Pentious... this was... Soft Sir Pentious. 

All the hard lines he had when the two fought were long gone and he looked oh-so-soft, so  _ real _ , Alastor could cry. The soft creases in Sir Pentious's face moved into a small smile, the hat that was usually ontop his head nowhere to be seen. "There we go..." he whispered softly, hands ungloved folded in his lap. 

Alastor's eyes traced up and over the serpents winding form, taking note of the lack of his suit, instead in its place was a simple black shirt, a v-neck cut deeply to uncover his eye in the middle of his chest. 

A chest that wasn't flat. 

Alastor's eyes froze on those lumps attached on there as Sir Pentious sighed and swallowed, his chest moving with the motion. Alastor felt tears form in his eyes. "Like... me," he said, voice crackling with the uncleared static from his throat. Sir Pentious looked surprised, hood fluttering slightly. "Excussse me?" he asked, tensing up slightly. "Your chest... like me. I have-I didn't-" 

He was at a loss for words. Him, Alastor, the Radio Demon, a demon who was  _ known _ to never,  _ ever _ stop speaking, to always have  _ something _ to say, was speechless. At a loss for words. Only one other demon had  _ ever _ done that to him before, and his heart sung out in pain at the mere thought of his name.  _ Husk _ . Sir Pentious seemed in shock, blinking dumbly a few times before he looked down at Alastor's own, seemingly flat chest, before lightbulbs appeared behind his eyes, lighting them up brilliantly. 

Alastor felt his cheeks warm slightly in what he was certain was embarrassment, looking away from the roaming eyes of the serpent. "Well... I guessssss we are more alike than I thought..." He hummed out, deep in thought. A random egg tapped his tail, causing the snake to jolt slightly before snapping back into reality, shooting up off the bed and rushing away, going at a pace that Alastor was certain he was unable to go at. What in the Hell was going on? Alastor was confused and slightly worried about what was going to happen to him, especially since Sir Pentious, a very capable enemy of his, not that he would ever admit it, as Husk would completely lose his mind over that thought, had now seen him helpless and knew one of his most closely guarded secret in all of his afterlife. He just hoped it wouldn't be used against him. 

Alastor sighed softly, banging his head gently against the wall, ears twitching slightly as his stomach let out an embarrassing loud rumble. He felt his eyes slide shut as he nodded off, smile softening as he relaxed, smelling the heavenly aroma of food approach his nose. Was Sir Pentious cooking? Probably. Should he go help? Yes, he should. Will he? No, there was no harm in taking a little nap before a meal, now wasn't there? Alastor nodded firmly to himself, sliding under the covers further and wrapping himself up, eyes sliding shut and breath deepening.

~~~

It had been four months since  _ he _ had kicked Alastor out, four months since Pen had found and healed him. 

To be completely honest, Pen was a very different man to Sir Pentious, very, very different. Sir Pentious was loud, Pen was quiet, Sir Pentious was arrogant, Pen was humble, Sir Pentious was only mildly attractive, Pen was mind-numbingly beautiful. Alastor had once asked as to why Pen acted so different in his home than out in the streets of Hell, the serpent only smiling softly (oh what a wonderful smile it was!) and chuckling. 

_ "Oh I'm sssorry~" He had teased, tongue flicking out playfully, "Not everyone keepsss up their persssona twentyfour-ssseven~" Now that was surely a jest at Alastor, a jest he wouldn't let go unpunished! He narrowed his eyes and tackled the serpent to the ground, careful to not pull on the glossy hood. Pen laughed, a clear bell laugh that was so much sweeter than Sir Pentious's obnoxious honking, putting his forehead against Alastor's, wrapping a tail around his body. _

Alastor smiled at the memory, humming and brushing his hair, squinting at the wild curls before attacking them with a very strong conditioner. 

He would never admit it, but he was very, very grateful for all the new technology the future has gifted him. At least with personal hygiene, he could never understand the appeal of a tiny box. Or microwaves. Damn microwaves. 

He yawned, cracking his neck and adjusting his bowtie, walking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, smile softening slightly, watching the sleeping form of Pen rising and falling with his lumbering breathes. 

His stomach churned and his heart squeezed as paranoia crept into the back of his mind, poisoning it. 

Last night Alastor had done a bad thing. A really bad thing. A horrible thing, really. Last night... Alastor had kissed Pen. 

It was an unplanned thing really, not something he ever  _ wanted _ to do. Really. But he couldn't tell...  _ him _ , he would be so upset and... and beat Alastor to a bloody pulp, screaming at him for being a whore. His eyes burned. 

Alastor quickly blinked and speed-walked to the kitchen, his chest tight and breathing erratic. Husker had called these "attention seekers", cursing at him when he had them. He hadn't had one in two weeks, a record he was quite proud of. But here he was mind racing, terrified, legs jelly, was it hard to breathe? It was hard to breathe. 

His back hit a wall and all of a sudden Husker was in front of him, towering and snarling, spit dribbling down his chin and eyes glowing a sharp orange. Was he shaking? He was shaking. 

"YOU FUCKING SLUT!" Husker screamed, paws clenching tightly into fists, drawing blood from the sensitive pads. 

He couldn't breathe. 

"WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, GETTIN ALL CUDDLY WITH THAT BIMBO!?" 

Husker... Husker no... stop, stop... 

His ears lowered, chest frantically moving in hopes of getting some air, somehow. 

"YA KNOW WHAT!? YA WANNA ACT LIKE A SLUT, I'LL TREAT YOU LIKE ONE!" A paw was tangled in his hair, about to yank it before he heard an annoying voice pierce into his skull.

"Mr. Radio Demon!? Are you okay!? Oh, shoot... someone get Mr. Bossman!!" 

...Husker wasn't there. Husker was never there. He hated how he felt relief over that statement, as usual, it would have caused him to want to curl up and wail, begging for his beau back. 

...was Husker still his beau? 

Alastor sniffled and wiped his eyes, getting up on shaky legs and rushing away from the free breakfast, running out of Pen's house and into the streets of Hell, chest heaving and desperate as he walked as fast as he dared, looking for the Happy Hotel. 

He didn't know why he had left so early, he was planning on bringing it up during teatime, after he gathered up his things of course. 

But he couldn't wait longer, he needed Husker, he needed to be held by his strong arms and being told to stop being dramatic, that his little attention seekers were nothing compared to his. 

He didn't want to think about Pen's concerned eyes boring into his soul, asking him what was wrong and guiding him how to breathe. 

It wasn't right, he was loyal to Husker, he shouldn't have kissed Pen, he never should've kissed Pen. 

His head was swarming and he was certain that he was crying as he banged on the door of the hotel, trying to quiet the screaming in his mind and the static surrounding him. 

He didn't want to be held and told he was okay, that it was a "flashback", he didn't want it he didn't want it he didn't want to be weak he was a man and he wasn't weak and he- 

"Alasto-" "Where is he." Alastor stated, voice pathetically high as he shook, chest heaving.

"Who? Husk? He's at the bar, Alastor are you-" He rushed to the bar, nearly stumbling as he fell into Husk's arms, the cat looking down at him drunkenly. 

No. 

No oh no oh no no no! He didn't want  _ Drunk _ Husk, he wanted  _ Sober _ Husk! He needed to be held not ignored! 

He shook even harder, gasping for breath as the cat lumbered up, mind slow as he picked Alastor up and staggered to their room, Alastor shaking the whole way. The cat struggled to close the door, Alastor kicking it shut and barely managing to lock it, chest heaving. "Th...The fuck you wan now ssslut?" the cat slurred, setting Alastor down on the bed and swaying slightly. 

He curled up, hiccuping and crying, shaking severely. "Y-you!" He managed to hack up, snot dribbling out of his nose as he winced, wiping it away with a shaking hand. 

Husk raised an eyebrow, his mind slowly piecing the puzzle together. 

"Oh... oh~" he smirked, laughing loudly. Alastor shivered, fear creeping up his spine.  _ What...? _ "Hu-" "It's okay doll, you'll get  _ all _ of me~," the winged feline said, getting on top of Alastor. 

The reindeer felt ice drip into his bloodstream, freezing his heart in its icy grip, lungs frantically trying to gulp in stale air, and getting a mouthful of cheap booze. 

"Wh-Wha-" he crooked out, crying out in revulsion as Husk buried his face into Alastor's neck, biting deeply and tearing off his shirt, paws going up to grope his chest. "You come t' me, beggin' fer me an' wearin' slutty ass clothes... an' smellin'-smellin' like 'nother demon... an' you tryin' t' say no?" He growled, tracing his claws down Alastor's sides and towards his pants. 

Alastor shivered and closed his eyes, sobbing as he let Husker do what he wanted.

~~~

_ Alastor and Pen were tangled up in each other, Pen relishing the reindeer's warmth, running fingers through his hair. He laughed softly and leaned in, pressing his forehead against Alastor's. Alastor simply laughed back, leaning in and brushing his lips against Pen's. _

~~~

He woke up, a dull ache in his lower hips, Husker snoring beside him, back to him. He turned around, back facing the cat as well and shivered, taking in deep breathes of air greedily, the cheap booze scent making him want to vomit. 

He stared blankly at the wall, fully aware he should get up and clean up the cum and blood from his nether regions. He closed his eyes, smiling twitching and lowering into a frown as tears flowed down his face, wishing that he was with Pen, knowing that him leaving abruptly shattered all hopes of goodwill between him and the snake. He slumped down against the pillow and sighed, claws itching to dig themselves deep into his veins, pulling at the tendons as he slid into a restless sleep.

~~~

Pentious awoke with a yawn, scowling at his annoying minions.

"What." He snapped, scowling. "Mr. Bossman... Mr. Radio Demon left... I found him crying in the hallway, pulling his ears and when I asked what was wrong he just stared at me and ran out... did I drive him away!?" The EggBoi babbled, twisting his hat in his hands. Pentious sighed, trying to ignore the deep pain that settled into his heart. 

"...no you didn't. Go." He said, slithering out of bed and into his art study, getting out his paints and starting to paint, a plan forming into his mind as a picture started to appear on the canvas, a picture of a winged cat with glowing orange eyes, with a spear through his chest. Pentious chuckled darkly as he dipped his brush into the red paint, calculations flitting through his mind. 

"Let'sss sssee how much you can hurt Alassstor when you are erasssed~"


	2. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have Alastor musing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in 30 min. and it's unedited lmao have fun

Alastor liked to think of himself as a very observant person, despite his poor eyesight. After all, those fluffy shits on his head weren't just for decor. Probably the only good thing about his form here in hell. Alastor yawned and cuddled into Husker's soft fur, humming to himself in thought, thinking about something peculiar he found at Pen's mansion, or rather, the lack of what he found. He distinctly remembered that there were no knives anywhere at all, not even in his laboratory where one would think he would need knives! Alastor sighed, flinching as Husker's sleepy paw wandering down to his rear, cupping it. He wiggled in discomfort before giving up and letting his mind wander to Pen's peculiar wardrobe. The man wore nothing but long-sleeved shirts! In Hell! Was this man insane? ...Granted he was one to speak but at least he acknowledged his own lack of sanity! Somewhat! A little! Not at all! Alastor huffed, reaching down to grab Husker's offending paw before a deep growl startled him into snapping his hand back up. Damn deer instincts. He rested his head against Husker's fluffy chest and closed his eyes, inhaling the aroma of cheap booze, stale coffee, and fancy cigar smoke, wishing desperately as he fell asleep that he was smelling mint, lemon, and honey instead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, idk when the next installment will be but it's a doozy

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are welcome! Go yell at me on my Tumblr: https://saschagemruler.tumblr.com/


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